


The Pirate's Bride

by Trista_zevkia



Category: Jeeves & Wooster, Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse, Princess Bride (1987)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Crossover, First Meetings, M/M, Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-25
Updated: 2011-11-25
Packaged: 2017-10-27 00:48:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/289728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trista_zevkia/pseuds/Trista_zevkia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Pirate gets his lady, sort of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pirate's Bride

**Author's Note:**

> Told me it was a pirate plotbunny, lying thing turned out to be a Jooster crossover with The Princess Bride.

“Aye, Inigo, but this one comes to my quarters.”

One sentence, not even spoken to me, and my fate was sealed as firmly as whatever they put on these boats to keep the water on the other side. A black scarf of a mask covered most of his face and head, but he turned blue eyes to me, eyes like the sea after a storm. I trembled at his words, but very nearly swooned as he took my hand in his.

I find, as I’m dragged across the ship, that I’ve plunged into things in _res media_ , much as I am about to be plunged into _la mer_ , once this pirate figures out who he’s dragging. I’m not even sure how to tell this, since I don’t know why said pirate is dragging this corpus about. I can say, without false humility or shame, that I am the ugliest filly on this dratted boat. This is an honest assessment, because I have studied the form in question and am, in fact, not a filly in any way, shape, or form.

Maybe in form, as we’re all humans after all, but I’ve a tall, willowy frame that most woman tend to curve away from, if you take my meaning. I am, in fact, a man, though not cut of the same manly cloth as the pirates who attacked our ship with their tattoos and body odor. The pirates attacked the ship, not their tattoos and questionable hygiene. That’s where I should start, I suppose, with that attack.

My Aunts had raised me, in that they paid for my schooling and shipped me between them during the holidays. My Aunt Agatha had found a filly for me to marry, though this one seemed to be on the other side of the ocean from the school I just matriculated, if that’s the word I want and it doesn’t have to do with food, from. Aunt Agatha could have given these pirates a run for their treasure, a stern word and few glares would have them cowering under that skull fellow on their flag. Happy Bob?

As fortune would have it, I was traveling with my Aunt Dahlia, though. Given a sturdy horse and a few hounds, she could have traced the pirates back to their den of inequity, had we wanted to go that route. Without the hounds and horses, and the loaded guns that went with such things, she’d only been able to spot them coming.

“Pirates!” Her bellow had warned the whole ship, and the women were herded into the belly of the thing.

I’d have stayed on deck and given the bally pirates the what for, but Aunt D had twisted my ear into a pretzel and dragged me after her. She’d been speaking at her normal, window plane rattling volume while twisting my right ear. In sympathy for the pain, my left ear had gone on a work strike, so I couldn’t hear her muttering about clumsy oafs doing more harm than good.

Soon enough, it became clear that these pirates knew their stuff, and we were about to be sunk, literally and figuratively. The pirates began swinging over, dropping from above like overripe fruit, and smelling almost as bad. I could see this and offer a running commentary through the place they loaded cargo into the belly of the ship to hold it, being, as I said, tall and willowy. Since I was doing this, I didn’t notice Aunt D whispering, conspiring against me.

I was surrounded, dragged from the commentating and forced to dress in the clothes of a filly. I don’t know where they got the blond wig, but it smelled of mop water. Flushing over my red dress, my face as crimson as the blood that dripped and dropped from the blades around us, I walked out with the pack of women for the pirates to look over. The crude comments made my blood boil, but before I could protest such language in front of the fairer sex, Aunt D was digging into my ribs with her elbow, perhaps hoping to dig an escape tunnel with said e. to r. An officious chap with graying hair hove into view, followed shortly by a big bloke in a mask.

“Captain, they look rich. I think we can ransom them back for a tidy sum.” The official looking chap said this to the masked captain

“Aye, Inigo, but this one comes to my quarters.”

Now we’re all caught up, I’m being dragged into the captain’s quarters on the pirate’s boat, and I’m very surprised at what I see. The room is immaculate, and beautifully done, not what one expects of a man who frequents a den of inequity. He releases my hand to lock the door behind me and I stare very hard at the books that cover every inch of available space. Leather straps crisscross the shelves to hold the books in place, in case of rough seas I suppose, until a hand touches my shoulder.

“These bookshelves are really sturdy.” I try to sound impressed, as I am impressed at how well the shelves took my weight when I jumped onto them. But I’m pretty sure the pirate hears the natural fear of being locked in a room with a pirate.

“I take it you have decided against attempting a falsetto?”

“Oh!” I say, before stopping to clear my throat and trying it again in the suggested f. “Oh?”

His lips only just twitch, but I know he’s laughing at me, smirking at my pitiful noise as his words penetrate my brain. Why did he suggest a falsetto?

“You don’t think I’m a filly?”

“Sir, it is obvious to one with eyes that you are not a horse, but I do not believe many will take you for a woman either.”

“It was my aunt’s idea, you see. She was trying to protect me, dangerous pirates and the like roaming the ship.”

“I was aware of their presence, sir.”

“Right, you were, seeing as you brought them, being in charge of this boat and all on board.”

“Preferred nomenclature is ship, sir. Or, you may speak of the ship by name, _Revenge._ ”

“That’s a scary name, though I thought it belonged to that scary Roberts chap. People call him the Dread Pirate Roberts, which I’ve always wondered if that was a title like admiral. You have a ship, so the Dread Pirate Roberts should have a dreadnaught ship, right?”

“An interesting idea, sir, but I feel I should tell you I am the Dread Pirate Roberts.”

“Oh!” I clamp down on my runaway mouth, knowing the D.P.R. never leaves anyone alive. “Wait, I thought you never left anyone alive?”

“As my mentor told me, you can’t afford to make exceptions. When word leaks out that a pirate has gone soft, it’s nothing but work, work, work all the time.”

“Pirates have mentors?”

“Some do. Are you attempting to talk me out of what I’m about to do to you?”

Well, that was a stumper, like the last test on my last exam before being spit out of the schooling that had been my home for most of my life. I was just rooting around for information, in the way a pig roots for roots. The trouble with my brain was nothing stuck to it. I’d ask all these questions but be unable to spew them back at the exam paper when told to do so and was yelled at for wasting the time of my teachers. Was I talking to find things out or did I have some other purpose, such as stalling the D.P.R.? What did he plan on doing with me?

“What do you plan on doing with me? If you knew I was a filly before you brought me in here, why’d you bring me in here?”

“I have a reputation to maintain, with the general public and the crew as well. Pirates are lusty creatures and to lead them I must show the expected attributes.”

“I’m sure I don’t follow.”

“I’m sure you do. It may be illegal, but that didn’t stop you and your public school friends, did it?”

“That was youthful hijinks, high spirits in a confined area, the sort of thing you grow out of.”

“Have you grown out of it?”

The crimson was in my face again as I tried not to show him the truth. No, I hadn’t grown out of it, and I was certain I never would. My aunts were desperate to find me a bride, because they suspected that about me, knew I’d run afoul the law if given free reign. D.P.R. saw it, and stepped closer to put his hands on either side of me. He wasn’t touching me, but I was starting to shiver at the nearness of his body heat.

“My mentor, Inigo, is leaving the ship. He is going to ransom off the women and retire with the money. I suggest we get to know each other before we get to port and you can make your decision then.”

“What,” I have to swallow the falsetto that’s finally decided to show up out of my throat to respond to that musical, deep voice that’s dancing along my nerves. “What decision?”

“You can go home with your aunts, confined to a life of conformity. If you are not as beautiful to me then as you are now, I may let you do this anyway.”

He stops speaking, I think because of the way I shivered when he called me beautiful. I may be an ugly filly, but I’m a normal looking bloke. I’ve never had anyone call me beautiful though, and it’s a heady rush.

“Other option?” I prompt, before I can think too much, which isn’t normally a problem for me.

“We pull into port and take on a whole new crew. You will be my first mate, in all meanings of the word.”

Mate. It could mean friend, old school chum, perfect match, and lover. I can’t think of a thing to say, so I move forward, cover the tiny distance that stands between us, and kiss him. Just about the time I realize I’m kissing the D.P.R., he kisses me back. All that stuff in school becomes a warm up, a practice before the tryouts for the team, hoping one day to go to the big game.

When he pulls away, I let my head fall back, letting the leather straps on the bookcase hold it as well as the books. I have an euphony, if that’s the word that means everything suddenly makes perfect sense, standing in the pirate’s lair. “That’s why that’s illegal!”

“Sir?” He asks, very prim and proper for a pirate. I really should ask him about that.

“Why are you so proper, you are aware you’re a pirate not a valet?”

“That is one of the stories I will tell you if you decide to stay after we reach port.”

“If the rest of you kisses are that corking good, you’ll never get me to leave you alone.”

“I am sure you will be equally pleased with my other talents.”

I’m glad of the skirts, the heavy material hiding my interest in finding out about those talents. How lucky I suddenly feel!

“Why me, D.P.R., why not some other, handsomer, more pirate like bloke?”

“I saw you standing with those women, and I knew you were disguised. I was going to use your disguise as an excuse to bring you here for simple carnal pleasures. On the way though, I was intrigued by the way you looked at everything. Even though you’ve been at sea for weeks, you still seem interested in it, innocent in a way I find appealing. Other men will attempt to avoid my wraith by dressing as women, but I thought this opportunity might not come again.”

“Opportunity for more than the c. p. you mentioned. That is more than, but including, those c.p.?”

“Oh, yes. I do intend to get you out of that dress very quickly.”

“I hope you can, because I’m not even sure how I got into it.”

“It is but the work of minutes. I could cut you out of it in seconds, but you’ll have to wear it until we get a new crew.”

“But you’ve got a lusty reputation to maintain, so we’re going to work on presenting that idea to your crew, right?”

“You seem rather eager to meet your fate at the hands of the Dread Pirate Roberts, sir.”

“Don’t sir me, D.P.R. My name’s Bertie. It’s not very pirate like, is it?”

D.P.R. smiles at that, as though at some very funny private joke. “Neither is Wesley, but we will discuss that later. In here, and only in here, when we are alone, you may call me Reginald.”

“Can I see your face?” It seemed a better question than asking if we could get on with the c.p. he was promising. It was a really good kiss.

“Forgive me, I forgot I had it on.” He unknots the mask at the back of his head and while he folds, _folds_ it, I study the face he’s presented to me.

“Why would you cover that with a mask?”

He blinks at me, as if unused to receiving complements or if unsure if that was one. It was, and when he figures that out, he tosses the mask away to kiss me again. This time, when he pulls away, I’ve lost the ability to see for a few seconds. He’s turned me around and is undoing the dress fastenings when my eyes decide they were only closed and not blind after all. To help him out, I pull off the wig and scratch at my much shorter, and a few shades darker, hair.

“Bertie, what were you speaking of earlier? Something was illegal for a reason?”

“At school, I’d wondered why two blokes weren’t allowed to do things together, but I didn’t understand until you kissed me a moment ago.”

Hands on my shoulders have me turning around and I realize I’m only wearing the underthings I’d worn under my men’s clothes. Reginald is good at removing clothing, and I wonder how often that comes up in a pirates’ life, especially a dread pirate.

“A good question. So what conclusion did you reach?”

“It’s illegal, because if people knew how good that was, nothing else would ever get done.”

Reginald gives a small smile at that and gently pulls me toward his bed. “Then come with me, and we’ll discuss your duties on this ship.”

The discussion that followed didn’t use so many words, other than the occasionally repeated naughty words, but things between me and the Dread Pirate Reginald were off to a wonderful start.


End file.
